Dark Horizons
by Rainbowrunner01
Summary: They were like chalk and cheese. He was a Noah, she an Exorcist. Both fighting on opposing sides of a war. She hated him and he hated her, as simple as that, right? Well, they do say there's a fine line between love and hate. Of course for them nothing's ever that simple. Dark themes with a side of humour. Tyki/OC. Slow build AU
1. Act 1-Scene 1

**A/N:** **The purpose of this story: An attempt to write a plausible, somewhat realistic romance between Tyki Mikk and an OC with a developed plot. Where there is no love at first sight, second sight or third sight. Where things are not so black and white, and there is always two if not three sides to a story. Wherein the line between what is good and evil are blurred and everything we _think_ we know are put to question. (At least I hope so...)**

* * *

 **Act 1—Scene 1**

 _Prompt—Rain_

 **Stormy Horizons**

 _T'was a sight to see,_

 _Black and White_

 _Fighting so fiercely_

 _Burning hate_

 _Seething vengeance_

 _A meeting bound by fate_

* * *

Dark storm clouds swirled above; their swollen bellies an ominous sign of the torrential downpour to come. The wind had picked up from a barest whisper to a howling gale, all in the span of a few moments. The hot wind beat against the dry earth, picking up dust and debris, flinging it high into the sultry air.

A bead of sweat rolled down her neck and her palms were sticky; her black and silver trimmed exorcist uniform stuck uncomfortably to her skin and her curly ash-blond hair was thick with sweat. Her throat was dry, parched and lips cracked.

She was hot, tired and bothered, the blistering wind offered no relief, nor had the selfish clouds released their hoard of precious water to the earth below. At this point she wanted nothing more than to than to collapse in the humidity.

Tentative eyes scanned warily about her surroundings. The cracked earth of the dried up lakebed was all that could be seen for miles, off in the far distance a long mountain range stretched across the horizon.

It was far too quiet.

Her hand tightened around the raw piece of Innocence unconsciously.

"Miss Blackburn?"

Her eyes snapped back into focus, she turned slightly in acknowledgement of the Finder addressing her.

"Oh. Sorry about that Nathan," She rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "I just got lost in my thoughts for a moment. What were you saying?"

The man known as Nathan sighed.

"We should be heading back now, it's a five day journey to our next stop, and we're on a tight schedule."

Yes, now that they had found and neutralised the phenomenon—namely Innocence—causing the peculiar drought, they could continue on to the next town and subsequently the next inn—which meant she finally got some much needed rest on an actual _bed_ , she swore she was also taking an hour long bath when she got there. Surprisingly this mission had been an uneventful one, not a single Akuma had showed up, there were no troublesome villagers or superstitious people to deal with, in fact the only hardship they had suffered had been thirst, the heat and one too many flies. Never in her time as an Exorcist had a mission ever gone so smoothly…it was almost too good to be true.

She was getting a very bad feeling.

"Nathan, have you seen Sam at all? He ran off a while ago and I haven't seen him since."

Her fellow Exorcist, Samuel Woods was what you would call a very… _animated_ man. He liked to talk, ad nauseam; and most of what came out of his mouth was, well nothing really. He talked for the sake of talking, most people had learned to tune him out but it still got on everyone's nerves. No-one would admit it out loud, but the tranquil quiet left in the absence of his incessant chatter had been one of the first reprieves they'd had all day.

Instead of Nathan answering, another voice cut in.

"That gabby gob? Oh, said is' gonna take a piss ova' there," the male voice sniggered "but obviously e' didn' say it tha' short, kep' addin' them fancy words a' is'."

She sighed. That thick accent could only belong to one man. The man in question was leaning over Nathan's shoulder like a particularly large monkey; Nathan's features gained a look of annoyance. He raised his hand and proceeded to whack the man in the face, remnant of how one would swat an annoying fly.

"Really Ackerman. That is no way to speak about Master Woods." The uptight Finder scolded the other man now rubbing his nose sorely.

"Pshaah, don' be a stick in the mud Nat," Ackerman looked at her with a beaming grin, "Oi, you agree with me don' chu Piper?"

An annoyed Nathan hit Ackerman over the back of the head.

"What have I told you about being so informal. Now apologise to Miss Blackburn for your crude mouth." He snapped.

Piper smiled to herself, silently walking off from the banter the two would undoubtedly start up. Out of all the Finders in the group she travelled with, those two had to be the most likeable. At the ripe old age of 32 and 35, Ackerman and Nathan were deemed veterans amongst Finders, sad really considering Finders barely lasted more than two to five years in the job, most had a tendency to drop dead from Akuma. To last ten years in the position was a great feat, even for some Exorcists.

A chorus of greetings followed her as she walked through the temporary camp they had set up earlier—with a wave or nod of acknowledgment here or there—she continued on her way through the group of sweaty males to the edge of the encampment.

"I'm just going to find Sam. I'll be back!" She called over her shoulder; walking in the direction the Exorcist had last been seen.

Crowds, she mused, were not her forte; the further away from the males she got the more it seemed she could breathe.

Piper had wondered many a time just how she had ended up in a place like this, in the middle of nowhere collecting 'god crystals'; powerful weapons that were meant to help win a war that had been raging on for little over a century now. And why this had all started? Because some fat old man and his creepy family had decided that humans were as good as disease filled rodents that needed to be all wiped off the face of the planet. Of course this _was_ a justified reason to slaughter millions—well at least in the eyes of homicidal maniacs it was. But after a century of fighting in bloody warfare—no foreseeable end in sight—her own side, the Black Order, had become just as maniacal in its beliefs; the once humble church organization had become a controlling cult of zealots, obsessed with winning, no matter the cost.

But still…given the option she would take zealots over murderers any day—not that she had much of a choice in the matter.

Piper suddenly stopped, her legs locking up, back going stiff; her musings faded into nothingness at the sight before her.

Laying there on the cracked earth was none other than Samuel Woods, completely and utterly dead.

Dead, no that was too tame a word…maybe _massacred_ would be more appropriate.

His body lay in a very awkward angle, limbs bent and warped. His features were twisted into a look of absolute horror, eyes glassy, mouth agape. His right hand—the one that wielded his anti-Akuma weapon—seemed to be broken with blood splattered along it. Piper forcibly made her shaky legs move towards him, with a slight hesitation she bent down to inspect his corpse. Judging from how fresh the blood was—she gently felt his skin—and from how warm his body was, he couldn't have died more than about fifteen minutes ago…with a detached feeling she noted that one of the silver buttons off his coat was missing. She placed her hand to the ground…only it wasn't the ground she felt. Something warm and slimy squelched under her palm, Piper started to shake.

God no…it couldn't possibly be…

She looked down.

A heart. A freaking _human heart_ , leaking blood under her _palm_.

Dear God.

She heaved, bile burning up her throat. Her recently consumed lunch was now sullying the dirt.

Piper knew this mission had gone far too easily, she was a moron for not acting on her feeling sooner.

Whoever had done this was after one thing and one thing only, the Innocence. They had probably stumbled upon Sam—and assuming by his Exorcist uniform that he had the Innocence—had killed him. The most likely culprit was an Akuma, but Akuma didn't kill with such precision—his wounds indicated deliberate breakages in places most commonly used in torture—so either his killer was a very intelligent high level Akuma, or…one of _them._ And by God she hoped it wasn't. The killer would most likely have moved on to the next place the Innocence would plausibly be, at the Finder camp. While in fact it was currently in her possession…

Dammit! She had to get back, _now!_

Piper forced herself into action—deciding she would come back for the body later—she turned and sprinted for the encampment she had just left.

Piper hoped to God she wasn't too late…

* * *

. . .

The arid smell of smoke and ash was the first thing she noticed, followed soon by the coppery scent of blood. Piper had a strong urge to gag at the burning smells. The remains of their supplies came into view; they had been strewn about the place like pieces of rubbish. One of the two traveling caravans had been tipped on its side, and the other ransacked. Piper quickly drew her thoughts away from the scattered piles of ash and discarded clothing; there was no doubt in her mind as to what they were. The camp had been set up in the only outcropping of rocks for miles; this gave her plenty of cover to hide. Piper quickly dashed under a particularly low hanging rock, one that concealed her from the sights of flying Akuma. She quickly took a moment to catch her breath and assess the situation.

She knew that Samuel Woods was dead, his Anti-Akuma weapon gone.

The Finders were dead, and their camp pillaged. She highly doubted that any of them escaped, meaning she was the sole survivor…

Before she could stop herself, her thoughts returned to Nathan and Ackerman. Piper's throat went dry; she felt the prickling of tears and her fingers curled tightly into a ball.

Dammit! When she found the frigging Akuma responsible for this—she grit her teeth—she'd take pleasure in avenging her fallen comrades, they deserved that much.

But now, now was not the time to grieve, that could wait until she sorted out this mess.

Voices—she recognised by the slight metallic warble as Akumas—sounded near where she hid.

"We've searched this whole place from top to bottom. And we can't find a single piece of that damn Innocence!" One of them complained.

"Yeah. It's nowhere." Another whined. The Akumas' combined screeching in their grating metallic voices was enough to make her cringe, just as she considered exorcising them, someone else beat her to the punch.

"Shut up, the both of you. Your incessant whining is giving me a headache." Snapped another voice, this one though was not an Akuma's metallic wail—far from it in fact. This voice was a smooth baritone, deep and rich; there was something so _alluring_ about it. Just the sound of it sent shivers down her spine, yet at the same time it had a lulling quality, like she could just fall asleep to it. This was the kind of voice that could melt ice and make any woman within hearing range weak at the knees.

If voices had texture; she would describe this one as something akin to velvet— _black_ _velvet_.

"The Innocence is here. So stop complaining and find it, I don't care if you have to turn this place upside down. Now stop bothering me and go do your jobs." The unquestionably male voice said a note of well hidden exasperation in his sonorous voice.

God, she could listen to him talk all day—Piper blinked, what was she _doing_? Now was not the time or place to drift off over the sound of some random male's voice. Speaking of the man, just who the hell was he to be talking to Akuma in such a familiar way…?

"But r-really we _have_ searched everywhere. None of us can feel even a _trace_ of the Innocence's presence. Please believe us Lord Noah."

Piper felt her heart skip a beat.

Did that Akuma just say…Lord… _Noah_...? Noah, as in one of the Millennium Earl's homicidal, insane family members _Noah_?

Shit.

From what she knew, the Noah were a race of super-humans who worked directly under the Earl. Not much was known about them, the only real information anyone had to go off was rumours, old tales and speculations. But it was common knowledge that they were callous, sadistic and utterly insane—well maybe not the last one, but she assumed it was a pretty accurate guess, considering anyone stupid enough to follow the Earl of Millennium had to be pretty screwed up in the head, at least in her books they were. The Noah were also hell-bent on destroying humanity, funny thing was, they weren't just all talk, no, supposedly they were all insanely powerful, _General_ level powerful.

The words Noah and survival didn't belong in the same sentence; the mere thought was a contradiction in itself.

And of course Piper herself had the misfortune of running into one.

With a sinking feeling she realised that the chances of her own continued survival had just dropped by half.

"Do I have to do everything around here?" Piper tensed at the sound of the Noah's voice. "The Innocence should be just behind that overhanging rock." He added in exasperation.

Oh _shit_. Somehow he had felt the presence of the raw Innocence tucked away in the small pouch on her thigh.

Screw vengeance, that could wait till later, now she had to concentrate on saving her own ass. Hopefully one of the horses had survived, if not, well she would be running back to England—

It had gone quiet.

Why had the talking stopped…?

A breath, the barest shift in the air, those were the only signs.

"Well, well. If it isn't an eavesdropping Exorcist."

The hairs on the back of Piper's neck stood on end, a chill running down her spine at the sound of a smooth voice from right in her ear. There was someone behind her…but that was impossible, considering the fact that she almost had her back pressed against a solid rock wall.

"You wouldn't happen to have a piece of Innocence in your possession would you, sweetheart?" He whispered, sending a fresh round of shivers down her back.

 _Sweetheart._ If there was one thing Piper hated it was being called pet names, especially by pretentious men. Her fingers twitched in anticipation, body coiled for when she felt even the slightest shift in the presence behind her.

"And if I said no, _Noah_?" Eyes narrowed.

A pensive chuckle, followed by a hot breath ghosting passed her ear.

"Ah, then I would have to say you're lying."

In was in the next moment she realized she had to move, _move_ , or die.

A change in the air—so slight it could have passed as nothing more than the wind—proclaimed from behind her.

With reflexes born of experience, adrenaline and sheer luck—she darted to the side as a flash of purple energy slashed passed where her head had been, just barely missing the powerful—and very near fatal—strike. She came back to her feet in a roll, half in a crouch, her back facing the figure behind her.

"Going for someone's blind spot isn't very honourable you know." She said scowling.

"Honourable? That is quite ironic coming from an Exorcist, sweetheart."

She grit her teeth, her scowl deepening.

Just what the hell did he mean by that? And sweetheart, _really_?

Eyes flittered back and forth, scanning, watching for an opening, the perfect chance to get away. The tall figure behind her stirred, from her peripheral she could just make out his weight being shifted onto one leg—although the move was harmless she still stiffened anyway. Piper knew she had to be very careful how she played this. This man; this… _Noah_ was an unknown and if the rumours—or the fact that he'd almost killed her through a solid rock wall—were to be believed, was also very dangerous. If she wasn't careful, she would quickly find herself very dead, probably in a similar fashion to her longwinded ex-colleague—being tortured then having one of her vital organs removed—probably while still conscious—didn't seem like the most pleasant way to go.

Upon feeling the weight of the Noah's gaze, Piper tensed.

There was a sigh.

"…Look. Let's not make this any harder than it has to be. Just hand over the Innocence in your possession and we will both be on our merry way, no harm done. I really prefer not to kill little girls." He drawled, his baritone almost sounding…patronizing.

W-what? Did he just call her…?

Piper felt an eye twitch. Sweetheart once, annoying. Sweetheart twice, demeaning. But being called a _little girl_ , especially in such a condescending tone of voice, in a way that implied she was _weak,_ that, _that_ was a big no-no in her books.

Who the _hell_ did this sexist _bigot_ think he was!? Noah or not, no-one got away with demeaning her in such a way, especially after he'd killed her comrades. Survival, who needed that? Oh no, this man was going to frigging _die_.

And yet, her insides churned with fear—most likely _she_ would be the one to end up dead.

* * *

. . . . .

To think, the little elusive piece of Innocence he been searching for— the goddamn _rock_ he had 'interrogated' an Exorcist, made an entire hoard of Akuma tear a base apart for—was in the hands of a child. Well at least she looked like a child, from what he could make of her features from behind she couldn't have been more than perhaps fifteen or sixteen years old.

He could feel another sigh coming on.

Why was it that the Exorcists seemed to be getting younger and younger? It was saddening to think that mere children were being forced to fight in a war. As much as he enjoyed hunting Exorcists, the thought of killing an innocent child —a girl no less—left a bad taste in his mouth. Although, child or not, the very fact she was one of the Order's dogs meant that she had lost her naivety long ago—had been indoctrinated and manipulated by the church and God—perhaps it would be a blessing if he killed her.

In the long run it didn't really matter, her death was inevitable—whether by his hand or another's—such as was the fate all the humans and their fleeting existence.

The girl, who had her back turned to him—not a smart move on her part—seemed to be bristling at the comment he had made earlier. Without the slightest warning she lashed out, spinning on the ball of her foot she brought her leg up in a high kick, the heel of her heavy boot arcing towards his mid-section. He didn't bother to move, a foot was of no concern to him—not to a being that could become intangible at will—that is until her foot lit up with the familiar radiance of an Anti-Akuma weapon.

The man's gold eyes widened fractionally before he dodged, just missing her green glowing boot from cracking one of his ribs. Her foot continued on its trajectory and instead of hitting flesh, it hit hard ground. The ground cracked and caved in slightly on contact with her heel, the green glow immediately dispersed. He looked at the newly formed crater with mild horror and awe.

. . . Well shit.

Dammit he should have seen that one coming, a hit like that would have broken a bone at least—a challenging feat considering he was a nigh immortal being.

"Let's get something straight," an irritated voice rang out.

"If you _ever_ call me _sweetheart_ again I'll kill you," He raised an eyebrow at this. "No in fact I'm going to kill you anyway, seeing as how my comrades are dead, probably no thanks to you." She spat venomously.

Amusement flittered through him at her bold statement.

Was this girl seriously threatening _him_ of all people? _He_ who could end her pathetic existence without the barest of effort?

His gold eyes narrowed.

"I'll take that as a no. I really hate to hurt a kid, but you leave me no choice."

The little Exorcist made a spluttering noise.

" _Kid?_ I'm not a kid, I'm twenty-two!" She huffed indignantly.

The Noah did a double take, eyeing her form. Long, curly almost greyish blond hair, pulled into a high ponytail, grey-blue eyes, a pert, slightly upturned nose and freckles—accompanied by a stature of perhaps 5'3. Her features were turned down into a scowl, eyes narrowed into a venomous glare. On a man—or even a slightly taller woman—the look would be intimidating, but on her it looked somewhat comparable to a petulant child, pouting over the fact that her favourite toy had been broken. Quite cute really.

If he hadn't seen it for himself, he would never have believed this slip of a girl was capable a making a crater in the ground the size of his head.

He noticed that her hands seemed to be trembling, in rage or fear, he could not tell.

A smirk slid across his features as he took a single step forward; he could hear as her heart sped up, practically _smell_ the fear coming from her, yet her stance and glare remained unwavering.

Definitely bravado, he mused.

Oh this girl—pardon, ' _woman'_ —would be a delight to play with, he could already tell just by looking at her. Perhaps he would tease her for a while, and then—in an act of mercy—kill her swiftly and painlessly, after all, a women should die gently. Well, he might as well get things over and done with, he had better things to be doing with his time than supervising a horde of Akuma. The 'woman's' kick had been a lucky shot earlier—he'd merely been taken by surprise—and she certainly wouldn't get another.

He shifted then, faster than a human could ever hope to move, covering the distance between them in the blink of an eye.

"Well _sweetheart_ I'm disappointed that you'd turn down my gracious offer for magnanimity, and seeing as how you have kindly _informed_ me that you are _not_ a child, I really have no reservations in killing you," The girl jumped at his sudden appearance choking back a scream, her heart beating wildly in her chest; he was almost disappointed at her oh so typical human reaction.

"But considering that you are a ' _woman'_ and I am a courteous gentleman, I will make your death swift and merciful, _if_ you give me the Innocence in your possession."

The Exorcist's expression shifted from shocked to outraged over the course of his words.

Ah, there it was, her amusing 'Death Glare'.

"Like hell, you bastard. Not if I kill you first." She seethed, her face going a most curious shade of red.

He chuckled.

"Ah well, can't say I didn't try."

He then moved to attack.

* * *

. . . . .

Bravado, all of it.

Every word from her mouth, a bluff.

She should run, run as far and as fast as she could; by staying, standing her ground she was digging out her own grave—her fellow Exorcist's death only testament to this.

But damn, the stupid Noah made it so hard with his infuriating pet-names and sexist comments, her wounded pride—as both an Exorcist and a woman—would not allow her to simply flee like a dog with its tail between its legs.

As an Exorcist it was her duty to stop any and all threats to God and the Church.

As a woman it was her responsibility to disillusion this man that just because she was of the 'fairer sex' did not mean she was weak—she got enough of that as it was at the Black Order.

And as Piper Blackburn she would personally see the Noah pay for each and every unnecessary death here today.

. . . that is if she didn't die trying.

Piper sidestepped as an arm went for her abdomen, then another for her head and leg. She was barely evading the barrage of strikes coming from the Noah. This was different from fighting an Akuma, they rarely got up close and personal, this man—she could tell by the effortless way he moved—was an expert, if not a master at close-combat. Piper wasn't quite swift enough to dodge one of his less noticeable strikes that glanced off her side, she gasped in pain, her ankle planting into the dry earth at an awkward angle. She stumbled backwards, tumbling to the ground.

Damn, he's fast _—_ her eyes seemed to travel upwards for miles before they reached the smirking face of the Noah that loomed over her—and tall, really, _really_ tall.

"Aren't you meant to be an Exorcist? I would have thought that you would at least be able _attempt_ to fight—considering the bold statement you made earlier—are you really only capable of dodging? Make this fight worth my effort or I might as well just kill you here and now." His smooth voice drawled in what sounded to be slight annoyance.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, the swollen black clouds about to burst, the wind had died, it was as if the world was holding its breath.

"Come on, activate your Innocence Exorcist, entertain me." He mocked.

Piper scowled.

Innocence, oh how she hated her Innocence. The very thing that kept her alive was also the thing that would ruin her. Her Innocence was not something that she preferred to use, but if the Noah wanted to see it, then see it he would—along with the sole of her boot as it smashed his shin in.

"Fine, be my guest." She hissed snaking her foot out in a low sweep, her boot lighting up with a green glow. It seemed she had caught him unawares as this time he did not dodge at the last second, instead of the crunch of leg bones shattering—as per usual for one to be hit by her Innocence infused kick—it felt as if she'd just hit an iron bar, what did give way though was his footing.

The tall man let out a pained grunt of surprise as he went crashing to the ground. Not wasting perhaps the only opening she would get, she lunged forward, pouncing on top of the downed Noah, pushing him back down into the ground. He started to twist under her weight, almost breaking the grip her knees had around his torso.

Piper swiftly pulled the dagger strapped to her thigh out with a practiced flick of her wrist, pressing its blade to his jugular.

"Stop squirming or I'll slice you open." She threatened.

The Noah immediately stilled, his strange eyes coming to rest on hers, there was no fear in them, only what seemed to be an amused glint. A haughty smirk tugged at his lips, followed by velvety chuckle. The sound sent a tingling sensation down to her toes.

Piper's jaw clenched, annoyance flitting through her she scowled, pressing the cold edge of the dagger harder against his throat.

"And just _what_ , pray tell, is so fricking funny." She growled.

"You know sweetheart, I've had a few woman try and jump me before—quite a lot actually—but none of them have ever been as _forward_ as you."

Was this man implying that she wanted to—! Piper went red, humiliation burning in her cheeks.

"Y-you sexist _pig_! I'll kill you for—!?" She cried out in surprise as the Noah suddenly shifted beneath her, hooking his leg around her knee, he shifted his weight so suddenly she had no time to right herself as he flipped them both over. The wind was forced from her lungs, her skull hitting the earth hard, jarring her teeth from the force.

Blue eyes widened at the man now looming over her, they had just reversed positions. Instinctively she began to writhe, twisting and turning, bucking under his weight with all her might. He wasn't affected in the slightest by her struggles, he simply used his knees to clamp around her thighs and hips, using a hand to lock around the wrist that held her dagger like a vice. He leaned in close, his nose almost touching her own.

"You say that so often, but you have yet to make good on your promise, _girl_." Her breathed.

Piper suddenly became aware, very, _very_ aware.

Aware of his form looming over hers.

Aware of just how close they were.

Aware of the way his eyes bore into hers.

A thread of fear wormed its way into her gut.

When she had first been told about the Millennium Earl and the Noah that followed him, she had automatically assumed that they would be grotesque and inhuman looking, seeing as they were so closely associated with the Akuma and their maker. But that was so very far from actuality—at least for this one—that it was laughable.

Grotesque? _Hell no_ , not with a near perfect countenance and a voice like velvet, even piper herself—who had on more than one occasion been called oblivious to men—could see that he was handsome—who was she kidding, _stunning_ would be more appropriate. While he wasn't grotesque—not in the slightest—but inhuman though?

Definitely.

There was nothing human about his molten gold eyes and the ash grey hue to his skin, or the row of seven cross-like curse marks emblazoned upon his brow.

Horrible, misshapen beasts, she could deal with those, pretend them nothing more than animals needing to be put down. But this Noah, he was the worst kind of demon, the kind that could pass as human, some sort of twisted mirror reflection of mankind's darker vices. The worst kind of monster isn't hiding under your bed, but in the bare light of day, in plain sight but never seen. And that scared her more than any ugly monstrosity ever could.

Hysteria was starting to creep up on her, the claustrophobia she suffered from pressing in around her, her mind was screaming, 'your trapped, _trapped_ , **trapped**!'

Piper renewed her efforts to escape with an edge of panic to her movements, she roared in frustration when she found them once again to be futile.

Lightning struck as the first fat drops of rain from the impending storm fell.

"Stop struggling. What are you, a rabid animal? Even those Finders and that bigmouthed Exorcist had more dignity than this before they died. Now I will ask one last time, _where is the Innocence."_ The man snapped, but Piper wasn't listening, all of her thoughts had come to a screeching halt at the mention of her fallen colleagues.

She had assumed, considering what he was…but she had to be sure.

When she spoke her voice came out as eerily calm—quite contrary to the turbulent emotions churning just below the surface.

"Nathan and Ackerman, all those people, even Sam…you killed them in cold blood." It wasn't a question.

"What?" The Noah blinked, the grip he had on her relaxing. "Nathan…Oh you mean those Finders? No I didn't kill them, that's the Akumas job, I wouldn't dirty my hands with such cannon fodder."

C- _cannon fodder_. The grip she had on her dagger tightened until her knuckles had gone white.

"As for Sam I presume you're speaking of Samuel Woods, the Exorcist. Him I did kill but it was hardly in cold blood." The Noah leaned back slightly, using a hand to dig into the pocket of his very expensive looking coat, pulling out what appeared to be a silver button. The button still had a piece of thread attached to it, as if it had been untimely ripped from its cloth. He flicked it around revealing the words _Samuel Woods_ engraved on the back.

"We are natural enemies after all." He said in an almost pleasant manner.

Piper snapped.

"You damn bastard! You tortured him and pulled his frigging heart out!" Piper jerked suddenly, wrenching her wrist from the man's lax grip. "How the hell is that not in cold blood!?"

Her dagger flashed, slashing right through his throat with a sickening squelch—or that's what would have happened had her blade actually made contact with his flesh, instead it passed right through him as easily as cutting the air. Her eyes widened in bewilderment. W-why hadn't it cut him, she had hit him before so why? Was _this_ the fabled power of a Noah?

It started to rain.

The Noah sighed in exasperation, as quick as a snake struck its prey, he hit her wrist, sending her dagger spinning out of her grip and clattering onto the cracked earth.

"Judging by your expression your confused as to why I'm not choking on my own blood at this very moment." He smirked. "It's quite simple, unless I allow it no being can even touch me, especially you humans."

"—You dodged." Her voice cut in sharply.

"Hm?"

"If that was true than you wouldn't have dodged my kick, you wouldn't have fallen when I hit you."

The rain was coming in steady drops, completely soaking both of them through in a matter of seconds.

His grey lips turned down at the corners. "…that was a fluke. And it won't happen again. Although I must commend you for your efforts, you did manage to _pester_ me somewhat, which is more than I can say for your weak allies."

Weak allies, humans…canon fodder.

"From what I gather you've taken those humans deaths quite personally, it's a pity, had you only been a few minutes earlier and not hiding behind a rock like some coward you could have perhaps minimalized the casualties here today. So in short their blood is not just on my hands but yours as well."

Yours as well… _yours as well yoursaswellyoursaswell!_ That was it, that was the final straw. Insulted, belittled, humiliated, her pride and those of her fallen comrades trampled upon. Rage and hate boiled within her until she saw red. An Innocence radiance sparked and flared around her, the green glow that had once been around her boot lit up around her left hand.

Piper didn't stop to think about her next actions even once.

She raised her hand and preceded to slap the Noah with all her innocence-infused might right across his cheek. The man's head snapped to the side with such force that his tophat went flying off, along with his dark unruly hair coming undone, falling down to frame his face. He raised his fingers to the blossoming red handprint on his cheek dumbfounded.

" _Fuck you_. Have you no honour? Your blatant disregard for human life is _appalling_. I hope you rot in hell you monster." She hissed with such venom and hate it was almost tangible.

The Noah's eyes narrowed into thin slits, a look of barely contained rage coming over his features. In the blink of an eye he had stood to his full height, dragging her with him by the collar of her Exorcist coat, her feet dangling above the ground because of their gapping height difference. Piper grasped at his hand, struggling desperately, her innocence infused kick not quite reaching him as he held her far enough away from his body.

"Don't preach to me about honour Exorcist, not when you work in the name of that _god._ I usually don't like treating a woman in such a way, but I think I will make an exception with you. Seeing as you have managed to royally piss me off."

The man held out a hand, something black and purple unfolding from his palm, it looked somewhat like a butterfly.

"This," he said, "Is a Teez and it has quite the appetite for human flesh, and you will have the pleasure of being its next meal."

Before Piper could so much as blink he had pushed it right into her chest, he retracted his hand just as quickly, taking one of the buttons off her coat with it. With his unoccupied hand the Noah reached to the pouch on her thigh and pulled the raw Innocence from it, he then let her drop to the ground immediately afterwards. She hit her shoulder as she impacted with the ground, a sickening pop sounding from her arm.

 _Dislocated shoulder_ , her mind supplied.

A burning sensation enveloped her torso; she had to bite back a scream that was threatening to rip itself from her throat. Piper curled in on herself, her usable arm clawing at her chest, as if she could literally rip the burning from it. Through a haze of pain she raised her head to glare at the man.

"I _hate_ you!" She spat.

"I assure you, the feeling is mutual." Gold eyes peered at her pained form, a look of perhaps pity crossed the Noah's face.

"You know I don't think I've come across a woman quite as explosive or uncouth as you. It is a shame we had to meet under such circumstances, I think I would have found you to be quite interesting. But perhaps it's for the best, _children_ shouldn't fight in wars."

The pain intensified in her chest.

"May you be released from the shackles of your god," He glanced at the name inscribed on the girl's button, "Piper Blackburn." The aforementioned girl didn't see the look that crossed his face. He turned on his heel, calling out to the Akuma.

"Come, we're leaving."

The Akuma looked towards the Exorcist. "But Lord Noah, the Exorcist—"

"Leave her, she'll be dead within the hour. You can collect her anti-Akuma weapon later."

With that he disappeared along with the Akuma.

Blackness crept at the edge of her vision, she tried to move but it was in vain a blinding searing pain engulfed her.

"Dammit," grey-blue eyes turned skywards. "So this is how I die huh?"

Before the nothingness engulfed her entirely, her last thoughts were of the Noah she didn't even know the name of and the goddamn irony of it all.

All the while the rain continued to fall.

* * *

 **A/N: Ah, god, I hope it wasn't too horrible.**

 **You're probably wondering, 'why is she publishing _another_ story when she could be updating Lost and Found?'**

 **Weeelll, because this little thing called a plot bunny wouldn't stop bugging me, that and I would like to see some more Tyki/Oc fics.**

 **I am quite aware of people's reservations as far as OCs are concerned, I hope Piper wasn't too cringeworthy, but as this is the first chapter, she has quite some developing to do. As for her Innocence, that'll be explained at a later date.**

 **So, Tyki apparently 'killed' Piper. What a great start to a relationship! I realise Tyki seemed to be quite...cruel, but do remember he _is_ a Noah and Piper did slap him. Meh these things take time.**

 **Rainbowrunner01 ridin' her rainbow out of here~**


	2. Act 1-Scene 2

**Act 1—Scene 2**

 _Prompt—Licking wounds_

 **Smokey Horizons**

* * *

 _The repercussions_

 _By a meeting of chance_

 _Begin to move_

 _In destiny's dance_

* * *

. . . . .

Fire.

Smoke.

Ash.

Suffocating.

"M-mother?"

Nothing

"Mother!"

* * *

. . . . .

The scent of burning, smoke, it covered everything, like a thick coat of dust. The heavy feeling of sorrow they all felt was like a tangible ambient presence, as if the rain that fell from the black clouds were the manifestation of their own tears.

He could taste it on his tongue, a putrid and foul thing, thick, suffocating, something that could only be described as despair.

In his line of work it was something they all became familiar with.

Nathan picked through another pile of ash, finding more empty clothing. He picked up the discarded cloth and threw it into the fire burning some ways behind him. It was funny; at one point all this ash had been a person, a living breathing human being. At some point in his ten years of service to the church, his dead comrades had become no different to him that piles of ash. It was quite a sickening thought really. But when one was a Finder and death was around every turn, you had to learn to see things differently. He would rather remember his friends in life, all the good memories they shared then mourn for them in death.

Nathan himself may have learned this a long time ago, but it seemed Ackerman still hadn't.

"Dammit! Where are ya?! Piper!" A cry rang out from the bedraggled looking man who was furiously searching through the remains of the camp.

No. Even after ten years, Ackerman still didn't know how to let go.

"Ackerman, there is no point. She's dead." Nathan said quietly.

"No! She ain't. Come on Nat, this is _Piper_ we're talkin' 'bout. She wouldn' let no stupid _Akuma_ kill 'er. I refuse ta' believe it, not till we've found 'er body." The man proclaimed vehemently.

Piper Blackburn, a strong willed, pig headed, independent and solitary woman, with a spitfire attitude that seemed so at odds with her own physique that at times it was amusing. Ackerman had always been particularly fond of her. After traveling with the woman—more like a girl really—for the last two years, Nathan had come to know her somewhat. Of course, Ackerman was right in saying that Piper simply wouldn't allow herself to die in circumstances such as these.

"Hey! We found one! It's an Exorcist!" Another Finder called out from across the outcropping of rocks. Ackerman was off, scrambling over rocks through the rain to reach the other finder. Nathan followed as well as he could with a splinted leg and makeshift crutch, a small flicker of hope ignited—no matter how hard he tried to snuff it out—that perhaps it was Piper, seeing as there was an actual body, meaning the Akuma virus hadn't gotten to it.

Whether or not she was alive, well that was a different matter altogether.

The girl's body lay on its side on the muddy ground, curled in on itself like a child. Her ash-blonde hair fell every which way, Exorcist coat splattered with mud and dirt.

Dear God…one of her arms was positioned at an odd angle, over extended and seeming not to connect to her shoulder properly. Completely dislocated.

"M' God, Piper!" Ackerman rushed over to the other Finder who was currently checking her for signs of life.

Nathan hobbled closer. "Is she alive?"

The Finder nodded, looking solemn.

"Barely, but not for much longer. Let's hope she still has her Innocence, we lost one Exorcist today, the Church won't be happy if we lose another. "

Ackerman flinched at that.

It was true. Finders were expendable—a dime a dozen—but Exorcist were not, their numbers were in extremely short supply.

"Come on, we have to get back to headquarters, if anyone can save her, it's them."

Ackerman frowned, brown eyes locking with Nathan's.

"'Eadquarters…Piper won' be 'appy if she wakes up there, ya know she's been avoidin' tha' place feh' months now." He muttered.

"Worry about that should she survive—and what have I said about being so informal?"

Perhaps…perhaps the despair wasn't so heavy any longer, not so long as there was even a single ray of hope.

* * *

. . . . .

The flames climbed higher.

Reaching.

Grasping.

Burning.

"Mother!?"

Trapped.

She couldn't move.

 _Wake up._

A laugh.

Sinister.

Eyes.

Teeth.

A predator.

Coming to consume her.

 _Wake up._

Possess.

Devour.

 _WAKE UP!_

* * *

. . . . .

Stormy blue eyes snapped open, foggy and unseeing.

Piper tried to draw breath, but it came out sounding choked and raspy.

Her heart, it thudded in her chest. Each beat so loud she could hear it.

Fear.

It choked her, wrapped its cold claws around her insides and _squeezed_.

Her mind was a jumbled mess of confused thoughts and emotions, she couldn't tell up from down.

Fire. There was a fire. She had to…she had to escape!

She once again tried to draw breath but to no success, it felt as if someone was physically pushing against her lungs, grasping her windpipe.

No there wasn't a fire; there was a monster and the burning sensation in her chest.

Her right hand—when she tried to move it—remained numb and unresponsive; her left instead rose to frantically search for the binds she was sure were wrapping around her torso.

Nothing. Nothing but cloth and skin.

So then why? Why couldn't she breathe?!

…Clarity.

A single moment of startling clarity.

This feeling, it was something she was familiar with.

It was a—

"Head Nurse, come quickly! Exorcist Blackburn is conscious, but she appears to be suffering from a panic attack."

Hands were on her, gently trying to push her back down onto the bed, the blurry face of a woman above her. Of course in her half-lucid state Piper's muddled mind took this as something else entirely.

Her thoughts returned to the image of a haunting smile full of teeth and clawed hands reaching for her—to devour, possess.

"No!" She screamed, thrashing against more hands trying to restrain her.

"Please do something! If she doesn't stop struggling she's at risk of tearing open her stitches, which could lead to more internal bleeding!" Pleaded another voice.

Out of the jumbled fray of voices another more familiar spoke up.

* * *

. . .

"Back off ya dolts, don't crowd 'er, ya only makin' it worse." Heavy footsteps sounded in the room as a Finder pushed his way passed doctors and disgruntled nurses. Another Finder followed closely behind, stopping momentarily to methodically apologize for his colleague's behaviour.

"A—Ackerman, wait!" the man tried to keep up with him, but found it to be a difficult challenge with a cast and crutches. "You can't just barge into the emergency ward without authorization, it's incredibly rude!"

Ackerman stopped in front of the medical cot—pushing aside another nurse—taking in the frail form of the woman— _girl_ who lay there with dark faraway eyes, wrapped in bandages and attached to the Order's advanced medical machines. With so many wires and bandages, her already small physique seemed even smaller.

"Like ell' I'd just let these idiots take care a' 'er. They don' know how tah deal with 'er panic attacks, they're only gonna set 'er off more." Ackerman muttered, turning to glare at another nurse who had attempted to steer him away from their patient.

"While that may be true, you cannot simply hope to take over a trained medical practitioner's duty just because you may have more 'experience' with this type of situation."

The other man scoffed.

"Yeah, well I'd do a 'ell of a lot betta' job than 'ey are, just look at 'er!" Ackerman snapped.

Nathan finally hobbled over, eyes critically assessing her. This certainly wasn't the first time he had witnessed one of her panic attacks, nor was it even one of the worst—not by a long shot. When Piper was like this it was simply better to take a few steps back and try to talk her out of it, touching her tended to make her reactions a whole lot worse, although this time the fit had only been augmented by her injuries.

No wonder the medics were so frantic, he and Ackerman had two years of constantly being around her to adapt to the fits, the nurses hadn't; although—Nathan's gaze shifted to the Head Nurse—apparently she was familiar with Piper's fits as well.

The stern looking woman eyed Ackerman with a clear look of irritation. Just as if by her glare alone, he went rigid, a shiver making its way down his spine.

"If you weren't who you are James Ackerman, I would have thrown you out of this ward for your unashamed disregard of hospital etiquette, harassing my staff and disturbing a critical patient. But I'll make an exception this time considering the circumstances." Ackerman visibly sighed, only to tense up again at her next words. "Do what you must, but if you _ever_ do something as stupid as barging into the medical ward again, I'll personally see you taken off active duty and scrubbing bedpans for a _month_." She threatened. Ackerman nodded, hoping to god she was finished… apparently though she was not, particularly when her sharp gaze and even sharper tongue settled their attentions on a certain crutch-bound Nathan.

"And you. What are you doing out of bed with a broken fibula _and_ a fractured tibia? I told you to at least wait a fortnight before you could leave bed rest, but no you could not even last _nine_ days! I swear, you're worse than those Exorcists. Honestly sometimes I wonder why I even bother…" And with an exasperated sigh—and quiet mutterings under her breath—she left to tend to other patients.

"Damn, that woman scares the livin' daylights outa me." Ackerman shuddered.

The answering look Nathan gave him held no sympathy.

"Well you certainly deserved that tongue lashing, I told you that forcing your way in here would not end well, did I not?"

"Hn, it ain't like she didn' scream 'er face off at you either, besides I got ridda' the ol' crone didn' I?"

A few of the nurses who continued to hover over their critical patient shot the man with cold glares.

Nathan simply sighed, shaking his head in exasperation.

"If she hears you say that than you really _will_ end up cleaning the bedpans," His eyes strayed over Piper's restlessly shifting form. "James…"

Ackerman looked at his friend in surprise, it was rare for anyone—particularly in Nathan's case—to call him by his birth name.

"Will you be able to snap her out of the episode?"

"Don' know. I can try, but…I think this one depens' on Piper 'erself, that an' she's pretty injured. Poor lass, I wonder what exactly she went through tah end up like this? Piper ain't no pushover, so I'm willin' to bet meh left foot that whateva' did this wasn' no Akuma."

Nathan's brow furrowed.

"If not an Akuma then what, the Millennium Earl? I highly doubt that man would simply show up to personally dispose of two Exorcists and a handful of Finders, if that were the case you and I would be long dead."

"Well whateva' it is—after Central makes Piper 'ere start gabbing—will prob'ly become more classified than what's under Chief Komui's little sister's skirt,"

Nathan blushed. "Ackerman! Don't be crude!" The said man sniggered, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively before continuing on as if he hadn't been interrupted.

" 'Specially if the thing was capable of takin' down an Exorcist of Piper's calibre, but that said, bein' the stubborn woman she is she prob'ly didn' use 'er Innocence till the last possible moment."

"That or she weighed killing it over the value of her own life." Nathan added quietly. The two broached into a contemplative silence.

The silence spanned on, only the harsh and shallow intakes of air from the Exorcist cutting the quiet. Finally it seemed one of the hovering nurses had enough.

"Excuse me." She said clearing her throat rather loudly.

Two pairs of eyes turned her way.

"The patient." She gestured towards the said patient. Looks of confusion were her only answer.

"You said that you could wake her up did you not?" She continued brusquely.

"…Oh?... _Oh!_ Yeah _._ " Ackerman tittered sheepishly, "haha, I'll just go an do that."

* * *

. . .

Black—despite what many think—is not just a single encompassing entity of nothingness. There are varying degrees of it.

There is void black, the feeling of emptiness, no thought no emotion, oblivion. There is warm black, the feeling of a warm bed at night, being wrapped in blankets shielded from everything and everyone. There is dread black, the feeling of being blind, alone, yet not, as if there is something lurking in wait, just on the edge of perception, this black was also know as the fear of the dark.

Her black though, was a combination of different things, the feeling of being wrapped in blankets, dozens of blankets, to the point she was almost suffocating from the heat. Then those blankets had been dumped into the ocean, hundreds of metres down where the pressure was crushing. She aptly named it drowning black.

Her head felt like it was so stuffed with cotton that drawing thought was a struggle, making sense of her predicament even harder.

There were two things she could possibly think of that could put her in such a quandary.

One, she was dead and this place was some kind of limbo—or hell, it didn't really surprise Piper that she would end up in such a place.

Or two, something far more mundane—well for her at least—a panic attack.

Somehow she was more inclined to believe the latter.

A goddamn _panic attack_.

If she were capable of growling at the moment she would.

Of course she was no stranger to the attacks—not after many years of them—but she had believed that after four months of nothing, that maybe she had grown out of them. Apparently not.

And this kind of panic attack was the worst, the feeling of being trapped inside her own body, unable to do anything while she was slowly constricted to death—so maybe not to death, but it sure as hell felt like it.

She needed to calm down, calm down enough so her body could regain its normal functions, she could worry about her predicament later. Yes calm down, no thinking about distressing things…like fire, or small claustrophobic spaces that made her skin crawl, or towering heights that set her teeth grating against one another as the world swayed from vertigo—

Shit.

Shit, shit, _shit_!

Don't think, don't think!

"— _er?"_

A voice?

" _Piper?"_

Who's voice was that?

" _Piper, can ya 'ear me?"_

There was only one person she knew who spoke like that.

" _Come on Piper, I know ya can 'ear me,"_ the voice drawled _"I'll keep naggin' ya until ya wake up~"_

Without a doubt.

Pupils dilated then narrowed, finally reacting to the harsh lighting. Stormy-blue eyes squinted against the sudden onslaught of stimuli.

"Piper, waaaake upp~"

Her tongue—as heavy as lead—slowly formed words.

"Pi—"

"A-Ackerman… _shut up._ " She ground out, rasping as if she had sandpaper in her throat.

The brown-haired Finder at the edge of her peripheral perked up, a grin lighting his features.

"Piper! Thank god ya alright, me an' Nat 'ere were worried sick."

The said additional person Piper had not noticed until then rolled his eyes.

"Nathanand _I,_ use proper English Ackerman. And what have I said about being so informal?" Nathan chided, "Miss Blackburn, how are you feeling?"

How was she feeling? Her whole body ached, she had a pounding headache and her chest felt like it had been jumped on.

"Like someone's taken a horse-drawn carriage, run me over, and then shoved a scouring pad down my throat…repeatedly." She muttered.

"As eloquent as ever I see." Intoned the Finder.

Speaking of hurting, where the hell was she anyway? Blue eyes glanced about the room, taking in the various machines, wires and people flittering about the place. The smell of strong disinfectants hit her nose and she grimaced.

An overly sterile environment, absurd amounts of the same shade of bleach white, nightmare inducing medical equipment and nurses—definitely a hospital. Except this ward seemed slightly too nostalgic, the nurse's uniforms too familiar and the medical machines a little _too_ advanced. A sense of foreboding and discomfort fluttered in her stomach.

She knew this place, a place that held rather gloomy memories for Piper.

The last time she checked she and the rest of her squad had been at least a few _thousand_ kilometres from the main branch, so why in god's name was she _here_? They knew, both Nathan and Ackerman—and just about everyone else—how much she detested this place. Heck, Piper had been actively avoiding it for two years, bar for the sporadic report or check-up, in fact her longest run of no contact had been eleven months—ending today of course.

Her lips pursed and she let out a heavy sigh through her nose.

"Ackerman," she croaked out, interrupting the quiet conversation the two Finders were having.

"Hm?" The finder looked towards the bed-ridden woman.

"Would you mind telling me why, in the name of all that is holy, am I at the Black Order?" She grit out.

Ackerman fidgeted slightly, plastering a large grin on his face.

"Ah ha, 'bout that…" The Finder's cheery disposition quickly wilted under the pointed glare Piper sent him.

Nathan on the other hand wasn't nearly as affected when Piper sent her stormy blue gaze in his direction.

"You _know_ I hate this place."

"Of course, it was necessary though." Nathan replied calmly.

"Necessary, it had better of been fricking life and death Nathan." Piper growled.

"Oh, I can very well assure it was Exorcist Blackburn. Seeing as when they brought you to me you were barely even clinging to life, nigh dead," The form of the Head Nurse seemed to appear from nowhere—sending Ackerman into a fresh round of the chills. "I believe they value your life much more than your ridiculous and childish aversion to the Order."

Piper's eyes narrowed, irritation prickling beneath her skin. She was _not_ childish!

Ackerman winced, feeling the tension in the air as he looked back and forth between the two women.

"Ridiculous and childish aversion?! _You_ of all people know exactly why I—!"

"You are twenty-two Miss Blackburn, not twelve any longer, is it not about time that you got over it?" She said sharply.

Get over it? Get _over_ it. Something like that wasn't something you just _got over._ And the damn woman knew how insensitive a comment like that was, particularly in her case.

She really hated this place.

Piper grit her teeth as she struggled to sit up, the wires and bandages severely hindering her process. A sharp bolt of pain ran through her chest but she ignored it in favour of scowling heatedly at the older woman.

One of the other nurses who had remained silent until then protested quietly.

"M-miss Exorcist, please you mustn't sit up, you could hurt yourself…" She trailed off when no one seemed to pay her any attention.

"You know what, I don't have to put up with this _crap_ ," Piper hissed, the machines began to beep rather loudly as she started to pull on the wires.

Ackerman looked rather alarmed as the air seemed to grow dark around the Head Nurse; she drew herself up as if she were to take on a particularly unruly child.

"Piper Blackburn, you will lay back down this _instant_ , or so help me I _will_ sedate you!" She barked.

Piper stopped abruptly, the threat ringing in her ears.

"Now you will listen and you will listen well, these two," she motioned to the Finders present in the room "Went to no amounts of trouble to drag you here in order to save your life, including the medical staff here actually saving it, the least you could do is be a little less selfish and show some modicum of gratitude." The Head Nurse rebuked.

Piper opened her mouth to retort, but stopped short, processing the woman's words. It was only logical, if her injuries were supposedly severe enough that they would take her _here,_ then they must have been desperate, literally no other choice, seeing as no place on earth—perhaps other than the other scattered branches—had as advanced medicine and science as the Headquarters of the Black Order. Stormy blue eyes trailed over the haggard looking form of the two Finders—particularly the cast and crutches Nathan now sported. And they had brought her here on the brink of death—literally countries apart—in _that_ condition?

And the first thing she did when waking up was yell and accuse them, without actually even stopping to consider the circumstances—like a petulant child.

A flush of red washed across her freckled cheeks, shame running through her hot and fast.

Piper looked down.

". . .Sorry," She murmured.

Ackerman chuckled casually, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Nuh, it ain' ya fault Piper, me an ol' Nat ova' 'ere was just doin' our jobs. We should 'ave known that ya'd react the way ya did. I'm sure I can speak for Nat when we say we're just glad ya 'live an kickin'."

Nathan nodded, adding more seriously.

"Yes, we were afraid you really died, if it was not for the medical staff I'm sure you would have."

She nearly felt like permanently disappearing into the mattress.

Ackerman gained an incredulous look.

"Nat! Ya should 'ave more faith in Piper 'ere. She ain't gonna kick the bucket from some stupid hunk o' flyin' scrap metal." He puffed up his chest proudly, as if he were talking about his own offspring, not a woman in her early twenties.

"No, Piper does the ass-kickin' to them Akuma. Lef', right _an'_ centre!"

Piper felt like sinking into the bed even further.

She suddenly blinked, a thought occurring to her. The pain, the medical staff and equipment, the life or death circumstances, Nathan's injuries…what exactly happened? Surely this hadn't all been the handiwork of an _Akuma_.

Eyebrows furrowed.

"Nathan, what happened?" She asked.

The two Finders looked at each other, some sort of expression crossing their features, something it seemed she was not privy to.

"In actual fact Miss Blackburn, we were hoping _you_ could tell us that." Nathan said quietly.

She blinked trying to recall, nothing, a complete blank.

Her brows furrowed, head shaking in a negative.

Nathan nodded in understanding.

"After you went off to find Exorcist Woods, the rest of our unit was ambushed by a horde of Akuma."

Stormy-blue eyes widened, a sense of dread worming its way through her gut.

"We were… _unprepared_ at the time. Regrettably…none of the others survived."

Piper stared numbly at him, not quite processing his words.

"Ackerman and I were barely able to escape, we managed to secure two of the horses and flee. We were not entirely sure why none of the Akuma tried to pursue us."

Dead. They were all dead.

"Yeah," Ackerman added "Nat 'ere even broke 'is leg tryin'. We were gonna come back for ya, but we knew some Level Ones an twos ain' no match for two Exorcists, 'specially you."

"Fortunately there was another Finder unit heading in the same direction, we just managed to catch them. They splinted my leg and headed towards the camp. We found…ash—lots of it—but not you."

Ash, piles of it.

The scent of smoke.

"Samuel Wood's body was discovered some way out from the camp; he was in a rather _disfigured_ state."

A bent and bruised limb, blood, so much blood, a heart.

"We did eventually find you, you were in a nearly as bad condition, covered in mud, still. For a moment we were convinced that you were dead too. Luckily you did not seem to be affected by the Akuma virus. On that note Miss Blackburn, are you truly sure you don't remember what happened? Whatever left you in such a condition did not seem to be your run of the mill Akuma, or an Akuma for all in that matter."

Akuma, screeching voices. Another voice, this one deep and smooth, like velvet— _black_ velvet.

Anger, hate.

Gold eyes.

"H-hey, Piper?"

Grey lips twisted into a smirk, a mouth full of mocking words.

How dare he!

Hate, burning seething.

Pain, painpainpain.

"Ye not lookin' so well, are ya ok?"

Oh God.

Oh god, oh God, oh God!

The Noah, it had killed her.

She was dead, they were dead, all those people.

A sickening burning rose up her throat, her stomach churned violently. Piper shifted to the side, ignoring the burning in her chest, and proceeded to empty the contents of her stomach onto the clean hospital floor. Her long grey-blond hair—which remained unbound of its usual ponytail—collected pieces of the putrid smelling substance, damp strands clinging to her mouth and cheeks.

Ackerman jumped back as the vomit nearly got his shoes.

The nurses quickly sprung into action, some running off to get their cleaning supplies. Ackerman and Nathan were ushered away rather quickly. A nurse tentatively approached the quivering girl.

"Here," she brought out a cloth, "let me help you clean up."

Piper simply sat there numbly, thoughts whirling.

She was alive.

… But she should be dead.

The Noah, he had shoved his hand right through her chest, told her the butterfly— _Teez_ —would eat her alive. She had felt the burning. She had _felt_ herself dying.

Blue trailed to the bandages wound around her torso.

But she wasn't…she was alive.

A rather deranged giggle bubbled its way up her throat.

Against all odds she had somehow _survived_ an encounter with a _Noah._

Against all odds she was alive… and they were dead.

Every single one of them, her responsibility, all dead.

The laughter became chocked, hollow sounding, slowly turning into dry sobs.

She had let her guard down, for only a moment, become complacent. And she and lost them…again.

She may have survived…but something felt like it had died along with them.

* * *

. . . . .

"A severe case of internal haemorrhaging, surgery was needed."

Grey-blue eyes glared at the stark white ceiling of the medical ward.

"Right shoulder suffered an almost full dislocation at the glenohumeral joint."

If the glare were capable, a rather sizable hole would be burned through the roof already.

"A minor case of swelling around the left ankle, it should heal within the next few days."

The clack of shoes sounded as a figured paced.

"Major contusions around the left wrist, and throat, minor on the left shin and upper thighs."

If it were possible, somehow the glare increased in intensity, teeth gritted.

The clacking came to an abrupt halt. Dark eyes narrowed from behind a pair of spectacles. The man's grip on the medical report tightened.

"Are you telling me, that you expect me to believe that all of this was the work of an _Akuma_?" The voice was tight, an edge of incredulity present.

Piper huffed, eyes stubbornly remaining fixed to the ceiling.

"Yes." Short and clipped.

A sigh sounded from the one Head Chief of the European Branch, Komui Lee.

"They found traces of an unknown dark matter substance near your _heart._ The medical staff believe that if it wasn't for your Innocence you would be dead."

Blue eyes darkened, fingers rose to instinctively clench around the material of her new hospital gown, right over where her heart was beating mockingly in her chest.

"And? I'm still alive." She dismissed.

"Piper you—"

"—Blackburn." She corrected him curtly.

" _Piper_ ," he stressed her first name. "You nearly died. You and two others were the _only survivors_ out of twenty-nine people."

The fingers of her right hand inside its sling went white as they clenched.

"This is a very serious matter. Are you absolutely sure that you didn't encounter _anything_ besides an Akuma? Is there anything that you aren't saying?" He was imploring her now.

Of course there was. But that man, Noah… _thing_ , was _hers_ to deal with. She need not bother the Order with something that didn't concern them.

Lee stopped, sighing again as he picked up another manila folder, opening it carefully.

Trying again he said, "The autopsy on Samuel Woods' body revealed some rather…horrific injuries." Komui paused, guilt flittering through him at the flinch that appeared on Piper's face.

"In particular one of his organs was removed from his body. The method of removal was rather peculiar; Samuel's chest had not been ruptured or disturbed in any major way. There was no way that it could have possibly been removed cleanly."

The heart, Piper could still remember the feel of it as it squelched beneath her palm.

"In fact there have been several reported cases where this injury is identical," Piper's body stiffened, recalling the Noah's words

' _Judging by your expression your confused as to why I'm not choking on my own blood at this very moment.' 'It's quite simple, unless I allow it no being can even touch me, especially you humans.'_

"One of the victims happened to be General Kevin Yeegar." Komui added quietly.

The bedridden Exorcist jerked suddenly—her injury twingeing—head snapping down to stare at the Head Chief.

" _What_?! The old man kicked the bucket?!" She exclaimed in shock.

That…that was _impossible_.

"But he was a freaking _General,_ he can't have just up and died! When?! How come I wasn't informed of this?" She growled.

Komui's eyes softened.

"You have been gone from the Order for quite some time Piper. But if you must know it only occurred two weeks ago."

Damn. Yeegar of all people had died. He was one of the oldest and most experienced Exorcist around and perhaps one of the few respectable and decent people in the Godforsaken entirety of the Black Order…one of the few she actually got along with. Damn, Lenalee would not have taken the loss of her master well, poor kid.

" . . . Chief, give your sister my condolences." Piper said quietly.

Komui nodded solemnly.

"Piper do you now understand how grave this situation is? These mysterious attacks haven't only occurred just once, just a few weeks ago Lenalee and one of the newer Exorcist here ran into a _Noah_."

"What did he look like?" Was it the one who attacked her?

"He? It was a _she_." Komui narrowed his eyes. " _Piper."_

"I'm sorry, but I have nothing more to say on the matter." She turned her head to stare stubbornly at the ceiling again.

The man frowned.

"You do realize why I'm doing this don't you Miss Blackburn? If I didn't question you then Central would themselves. But if that is really all you can say…" Another sigh. Dark eyes met stormy blue. "There are people that actually care about your welfare here Piper—no matter what you may think—please, be careful in whatever goal you have set your eyes upon, revenge has a way of twisting people." He said sternly. Finally he turned to walk out from the ward, not before turning one last time.

"Oh and just holler should any boys sneak in here and try to steal your chastity, Big Brother Komui will protect you and my sweet Lenalee." He flashed her his signature goofy smile, before walking out.

"Idiot." Piper muttered.

She lent back, head resting on the piled pillows.

Revenge huh…while that sounded rather appealing, she wasn't stupid. Going directly after the Noah would only end up with her dead, she wasn't wasting the second chance she was given…but if she ever crossed paths with the bigot again, he would definitely die by her hand.

 _And I won't hesitate next time…or hold back._

* * *

. . . . .

A cloud of thick toxin rich smoke passed from his lips, the cloud curling and shifting on the currents of air created by his breath. The smell of tobacco was rich in the air. He took a drag of his cigarette, eyes flicking down to the latest button in his rather extensive collection. On the back of the silver button the words _Piper Blackburn_ were engraved.

"Piper Blackburn huh?" He said quietly, contemplatively to himself.

Nimble fingers turned the button over and over, as he had been doing for a few days now. His unoccupied hand rose to touch the rather large handprint shaped bruise on his cheek, still tender even after nine days. Normally such a wound if inflicted by normal means wouldn't have injured him at all, and even one inflicted by innocence would take no more than two or three days to heal, but whatever technique the girl had used seemed to have rather lasting effects. Something both his brother and niece had given him a hard time for.

But still, it was a rather impressive feat that she had actually managed to land a blow on him—not just once but _twice_. She had also been rather amusing as well, scowling, hissing and spitting like a cat, declaring such ridiculous statements. Their little encounter had been relatively fun actually—particularly their little scuffle on the ground—for once keeping him on his toes, unlike all the other Exorcists he had encountered lately, all the same, so morose and _scared._ It just wasn't as enjoyable anymore to fight them, more of a chore really.

Maybe he shouldn't have been so quick to kill her?

' _Fuck you. Have you no honour? Your blatant disregard for human life is appalling. I hope you rot in hell you monster.'_

Of course then she had to go and open her mouth and ruin his fun.

Some humans were rather stupid…or in her case ignorant. Although he wasn't surprised, the Order seemed to keep their dogs on rather short leashes and in the dark.

He wasn't sure why he still had the button, why he hadn't simply given it to Eeze as of yet. Perhaps the thought of the little Exorcist with the expressive face, burning eyes and big words, the girl that despite her obvious fear had never flinched away from him even once.

Bravery—or perhaps bravado—like that he rarely ever encountered anymore.

Well its not like it matters anyway, he mused flicking the button up then catching it, she was long dead.

He slipped the silver button into his pant pocket, taking one last drag of his cigarette before he dropped the butt to the ground.

Smart dress shoes crushed the butt underfoot.

Hm, now that he thought about it, he never did check to see if the Akuma had collected the girl's Innocence or not…

 _I wonder if she was a good Poker player?_

* * *

 **A/N: After months of editing and rewriting I have finally settled on this :)**

 **I was rather hesitant to continue this...but after much consideration it's now on the get go. But I would like to say something first, I am all too aware how a lot of OC oriented fics are perceived. Everyone has different tastes and I know that no matter what I do I cannot please everyone...so I will simply try my best to give my readers hopefully something worth reading. :)**

 **Now enough of my rambling. Also big thanks to _Windblade67_ she was a rather large motivator to continue this. Also to _KomodoLass_ and _TykiWife_ who helped me accept my humble pie ;)**

 **On a side note. The anime finally continued! Fangirling so hard right now.**


	3. Act 1-Scene 3

**Act 1—Scene 3**

 _Prompt—Reputation_

 **Confined Horizons**

 _In the dark, a light I see_

 _A beacon in the distance calling to me._

* * *

For the first time in his newly established career as an Exorcist, Allen Walker was truly facing the harsh reality of his situation.

…no dango.

The eastern sweet, perhaps his favourite—amongst a multitude of others—had run out. One of the key ingredients needed in their preparation mysteriously—devastatingly—out of stock. And with the growling incessant whining of his seemingly bottomless stomach, the day was turning out to be a rather miserable one indeed.

"I'm sorry dear, but the new supplies won't be in until tomorrow at the earliest." The Head-chef Jerry cooed, regret lacing his tone. At the glum expression on the teen's face, he frantically offered alternatives.

"But I have a batch of Soba noodles already prepared." At this Allen's mood seemed to plunge even further.

"I don't want anything that Stupid Kanda's touched." Allen muttered petulantly.

No, because Soba reminded him too much of a certain moody sword-wielding Exorcist, who he had already butted heads with on more than one occasion that morning.

"N-no! But I can prepare anything else you'd like as well!" Jerry piped in quickly.

In the end he carted away five heavy dishes stacked precariously in his arms, a seemingly impossible—but much practiced—feat of balance and dexterity. Before he could fully cross the walkway towards his table, something short and hard pushed passed him with a barely audible and grumpy "Excuse me." The dishes nearly went tumbling, only being saved by his superior hand-eye coordination.

"Hey—" he looked up, expecting to see the retreating form of Kanda but instead saw a head of long grey-blond hair receding into the distance. Silver eyes blinked, shaking his head Allen seated himself and his multitude of dishes at the table, which he happened to share with Lenalee, the Junior Bookman Lavi and the newly employed Arystar Krory the Third. Silver-blue eyes immediately flickered to the form of the only female seated at the table, currently engaged in mild conversation with a rather emphatic Krory, although she smiled and nodded, her dark eyes had a far-away look to them. The nods only seemed half-hearted and the smiles never quite reaching her eyes.

Lenalee Lee hadn't quite been the same since the incident nearly a month ago, the death of her Master hitting hard. And although she tried to hide it behind smiles and a cheery outlook it was quite obvious that she hadn't recovered fully from the ordeal. Then again, neither had he. Even though he had only know him for a few short hours, General Yeegar was everything one could want in a mentor…everything his good-for-nothing master wasn't. Absentmindedly shoveling his egg and rice dish into his mouth, Allen's gaze drifted across the dining hall, lazily flitting over the Finders, science section workers and the handful of scattered Exorcists. His eyes zeroed in on a familiar head of ash-blond hair sitting only a few tables over from his. It was a girl, he realized, perhaps Lenalee's age, sitting adjacent to two Finders—both of which he didn't recognize—the closest to her was talking rather dynamically, making wild gestures with a large grin on his face. The other mildly sipping what Allen assumed to be tea. The girl on the other hand was seemingly glaring a hole through the pages of a bound book, charcoal pencil resting in her left hand. There was a rather aggravated air around her, Allen could almost picture a cat with its tail fluffed, mewing low warnings to the children that continued to poke at it with their sticks. Curiously he noted that she wore no distinguishable uniform, not the white of the Science-section, not the tan of the Finders, not the black and silver of the sparse Exorcists. Only a dark blue turtleneck top and practical tan pants and boots.

He'd never seen that girl, so who was she?

It seemed he had unintentionally voiced his thoughts out loud as Lavi was quick to respond.

"Who?" the Junior Bookman questioned, one emerald green eye peering from around Allen to glimpse the said girl.

Sighing, Allen motioned subtly towards the table, "The girl with the blond hair." He said quietly.

There were no exclamations of 'Strike' as per usual, only a long pause before Lavi answered.

" . . . That's Piper." The way Lavi said it so _deadpan_ made Allen turn to him in surprise.

"Piper?" He repeated, unsure of the significance of the quite normal sounding name.

"Piper Blackburn. She's an Exorcist."

An Exorcist? Allen was under the impression he had met the majority of the Exorcists within the Black Order, particularly another female like Lenalee.

The aforementioned girl—as if just by the mention of 'Piper'—quickly cut into the conversation and overtop of what Lavi was about to say.

"Lavi, it's rude to gossip about someone behind their back," Lenalee cut in sternly, dark eyes flickering in Piper's direction. "Particularly about her." The last part was said far more quietly.

"It's not _gossiping_ Lena," Lavi dismissed casually, "It's an informed _conversation_ between men."

Lenalee rolled her eyes.

"And besides, I'm just giving our resident Beansprout here," Lavi shifted his head to the side just in time as a spoon was flung his way, courtesy of a certain Allen. "Helpful advice." He grinned.

The white-haired Exorcist looked back and forth between the two, brow furrowing in confusion.

"…I'm not sure I completely understand. What exactly is wrong with her?" He asked hesitantly.

"Nothing." Lenalee answered.

Lavi snorted.

"She has…problems."

" _Problems_?" Allen echoed.

"Yeah, she suffers from these…fits, apparently it scares the crap out of the majority of Finders stationed with her, that and she has a temper that makes Yuu look practically fluffy in comparison. Personally I've only met her once or twice two years ago, but I've seen her hit a man through a wall for _looking_ at her wrong." Lavi said, deliberately shifting his gaze to Lenalee. She made no move to deny his claims.

When she next spoke, there was a severity to her voice and a dark look in her eye, almost as if she were recalling something particularly grave.

"Piper came to the Order ten years ago, a few months after I came." Lenalee began fiddling with the silverware in her hand. "I remember seeing her for the first time, I was curious about the supposed new accommodator, so I snuck into the medical ward to catch a glimpse of her. She was covered in soot and ash, clothes blackened and burned, splattered with blood. I'll never forget the haunted look in her eye."

Allen shivered, remembering his own circumstances. A thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Lavi, if she's been here for a decade, how have you only met once or twice? You've been at the Order for two years right?" Allen questioned.

The Bookman hummed thoughtfully, twirling a fork between his fingers.

"Piper's not exactly the most sociable of people, and she tends to avoid this place."

"She takes on missions like they're going out of fashion, brother has a hard enough time keeping her put as it is." Lenalee added.

Allen was suddenly reminded of his wayward Master.

"Why would she try to _avoid_ the Order?"

"Piper Blackburn makes no big secret of her hate for the Black Order, she's rather infamous for it actually." Lavi muttered, there almost seemed a note of…disdain in his voice.

Lenalee's fingers tightened around the silverware until her knuckles went white.

"Its…it's not like matters anyway. Every single one of us has gone through hardships before we came here. But that's what the Order's for, we're a family and this is our home. Piper just…Piper just hasn't realized this yet." Lenalee declared, a tense undertone to her voice. She stood up abruptly, her dishes clanking as she picked them up.

"I'm going to see if brother needs some assistance." Lenalee said brusquely, quickly striding off to deposit her used dishes to the kitchen staff.

All the occupants of the table were left blinking in astonishment in the wake of Lenalee's rather uncharacteristic behavior. Krory—who had been rather oblivious the prior conversation—turned to the other two Exorcists in confusion.

"…Did I miss something?" he inquired, concern lacing his tone as he glanced in the direction Lenalee had just left in.

Allen was wondering that himself.

* * *

. . . . .

Blank.

The page was blank.

The charcoal pencil resting in her dominate hand stayed unused. The page was as blank now as it had been the moment she had opened the bound book earlier that morning. It seemed her motivation to draw was severely lacking, her muse might as well have shriveled up and died for all the inspiration it gave her. There was just something about the air of the Black Order that seemed to suck the enthusiasm and life from everyone—well not _everyone_.

Her eyes flickered to a certain Finder seated adjacent to her, who was currently discussing _something_ rather energetically with the occupants of the table; only one of which was actually listening—Piper herself had zoned out instinctively, as she did after two years of associating with Ackerman and his pep talks.

Ackerman never seemed to lack enthusiasm, stifling atmosphere or not.

The other occupant of the table—namely Nathan—was sipping his tea, like a 'proper' gentleman of their time, calmly watching his associate prattle dynamically. Hazel eyes slid towards her direction, an appraising look in their depths.

"You have not eaten." A simple statement, yet only Nathan could make it sound like a scold.

Piper's eyes flickered to the bowl of cooling porridge that sat there untouched. The greyish-white congealed, lumpy mush seemed to mock her, it turned her stomach each time she even fathomed—let alone attempted—eating it. She looked at the dish derisively.

"I'm not hungry." She replied gruffly, rolling the pencil between her fingers.

"In your case Miss Blackburn, that is a rather worrying statement. You've barely touched your food in the last few days, and considering your track record, it's a wonder you are still functioning at all." He tutted disapprovingly.

"I'm not dying Nathan. I just don't feel like eating." She said dismissively, hoping her lighter tone would make him drop the subject.

It didn't.

"If your current dish is unsatisfying then perhaps try another variety?" He suggested.

The pencil in her left hand drew a random scribble on the once blank page—only to go harshly sideways as the book was yanked out from underneath her arm, pencil being taken as well. Stormy blue eyes glared at Ackerman as he replaced the book with a dish, sporting two fried eggs and a sausage artistically arranged into a mockery of a smiling face. He grinned at her.

"Now ya don' 'ave teh suffer through some soggy cardboard eh, Piper? A propa' breakfast should _cheer_ ya right up." He proclaimed jovially.

Piper glared at the offending dish, it was so ridiculous she couldn't help but feel the corners of her lips curl up slightly. Damn, that idiot, his grin was far too infectious.

She sighed, not that she didn't appreciate the gesture…but, nothing was looking particularly appetizing at the moment.

"…thanks Ackerman, but I'm still not hungry." It wasn't quite a protest, more a reproving acknowledgment of her own state.

Ackerman deflated slightly, frowning.

"Well ye 'ave to eat _somethin'_. I mean," he reached across the table and poked her gently in the arm, "Ya looking slightly thin there."

Nathan sipped from his beverage once more, setting the teacup down without so much as a _chink_ , before fully turning to face her.

"I agree with Ackerman, Miss Blackburn. I cannot claim to be an expert on Innocence, but correct me if I am wrong, Parasitic-types such as yourself must consume large amounts of food in order to maintain functionality. In fact I believe you must ingest your own body weight every one to three days, if not your Innocence will draw upon your body's own reserves."

Piper scowled, he was right. While she felt the near constant hunger that all parasitic-types felt to varying degrees, the thought of feeding that _thing_ in her chest was sickening. It was like a leech, feeding off her like the parasite it was. If it wasn't the only thing keeping her heart still pumping blood through her veins, she would gladly take the nearest utensil and cut it out—with extreme prejudice. Sometimes she wondered if there was something fundamentally unsound inside her brain, if she had more than a few screws loose, considering she thought of her own Innocence as a leech and blamed the inanimate object for her woes…there most definitely was.

Mind you, after ten years of fighting in a seemingly endless, futile war, death a constant, anyone was bound to be slightly…unstable.

Particularly herself.

Reaching over, she snatched a buttered piece of toast off of Ackerman's plate, biting into it with force and ripping. The bread was tough to swallow, but she managed to force it down, crusts and all.

"There, happy?" She muttered.

"It'll do." Ackerman sighed in defeat. But from the identical looks of disapproval on her friends' faces, it wasn't, not by a long shot. But both of them knew her long enough by now not to press the issue.

Her fingers itched, her body already beginning to buzz with pent up energy. She needed to move, do something… _hit_ something; preferably before she took it out on some _one_. The mess hall, the numerous people in it, the noise, it was all too much. She needed space, and desperately. Taking a calming breath, she looked to the two Finders.

"If you need me, I'll be in the training rooms." Piper said quickly, not bothering to judge their reactions as she grabbed her sketchbook and charcoal pencil. Sliding out from the table and nigh retreating from the busy hall into the relative peace of the hallway.

* * *

. . .

Despite her rather _obvious_ dislike for the Order, there were—grudgingly—some perks to being an Exorcist, namely the facilities. The training rooms in particular held great appeal to her. She could remember the hours, _days_ spent in her teenage years beating the shit out of anything that she could get her hands on, there was nothing quite as therapeutic as smashing something to bits until your knuckles were raw and bleeding. And after nearly two weeks spent bedridden and another on limited movement and restrictions as to where she could go, her patience was quickly running dry. No more sling, and with her stitches removed she wasn't waiting another day to finally release her pent up frustrations.

Slipping her knee-high boots off, socks as well, she padded barefooted into the sunken floor of the training room. Her eyes zeroed in on an old leather punching bag, hanging inconspicuously from a rather unused corner of the room.

So, even after two years it was still there as it had always been, Piper had assumed they would have rid of it, considering its disuse. She slowly circled it, looking for any frays or rips—it wouldn't do for the bag to split. She promptly ignored the boxing gloves hanging from the wall—she really didn't want to invite that kind of disaster. Finding nothing she stepped back, planting her feet squarely on the ground, right foot slightly forward. Fists balled, she quickly brought her right arm towards the punching bag for two swift jabs—her shoulder only twinging slightly—followed up by a strong left-hook. She repeated this cycle for a while, adding a kick or a knee thrust here and there. While it helped slightly, she still felt restless. It wasn't surprising really seeing as she was forced to be in a place she had been actively avoiding for the majority of her adult life. Three weeks here and she had far too much time on her hands, and time made her think…about things she would rather push away and leave buried. At least while on her missions she was all but free to do things as she pleased, eat when she wanted, sleep where she wanted. There was no-one breathing down her neck, none of the ever-watchful eyes of the CROW as they scrutinized her from the shadows. Being given her own squad came with the benefit of a pseudo-leadership—the feeling of control— she had lacked the majority of her life and the illusion of freedom…somewhat.

But after the disaster that should have been a routine mission, and after the death of Woods and her Squad—barring two—it was highly unlikely they would give her such a long leash again.

Gritting her teeth, her fist made contact with the punching bag with increased force.

 _Thud._

Barely two years of leaving.

 _Thud._

And she was already stuck within this stupid place again.

 _Thud._

Stopping, she considered the red of her inflamed knuckles. In reality if she wanted someone to blame—other than the obvious—she had to look no further than the instigator of her prior troubles. That stupid chauvinistic Noah, with his stupid remarks and smirk. The image of his countenance was burned into her mind with startling clarity—unfairly inhuman beauty and all—so much so there hadn't gone a night where she hadn't dreamed of him and the same scene of scuffling in the rain over and over again. With an epiphany, she drew the charcoal pencil wedged into her ponytail out with a flick, twirling it between her fingers. She studied the surface of the leather bag, a grin flitting across her lips—it seemed her muse had returned. With deft fingers she managed to roughly sketch the figure of the Noah's face. The rather realistic depiction of the image sat squarely in the center of the bag; Piper stepped back to admire her work. Seeing as she couldn't take out her frustrations on the real thing, this would have to suffice. She'd always been a visual person anyway.

With a renewed vigor she sent her fist careening into the face, sending the sand filled bag swinging back despite her tiny physique.

If the stupid Noah hadn't decided to show up.

 _Thud._

If the stupid Noah hadn't brought a horde of Akuma with him, her squad wouldn't be dead.

 _Thud._

If the _stupid_ Noah hadn't decided to provoke her.

If, if, if, _if!_

 _Thud._

If it wasn't for him, then she'd be with her squad— _friends,_ her mind quietly supplied—not locked up like some exotic freak that her and the other Exorcists were demeaned to—a freak show displayed proudly, but kept on leashes and away with ten foot poles. She wouldn't have almost died, and she wouldn't have central breathing down her neck for as to why she _didn't._

 _Thud!_

She wouldn't have chronic nightmares on top of her usual ones.

 _Thud!_

In fact if the Noah, his kin and the Millennium Earl—no, the entire _Holy_ _War_ , didn't exist then she wouldn't have bonded with a piece of Innocence, have it leeching on her life force, she would have had a normal childhood. And she most certainly wouldn't have been wasting her life away in a fucking pointless fools crusade, fighting with the grace of a supposed god who didn't even seem to _care_!

 _ **THUD!**_

A flash of green light. Piper gasped in surprise as she was forced off balance, the punching bag exploding in her face as if hit by a bomb. Sand and pieces of torn leather flew every which way; the remains of what had once been a punching bag swinging wildly back and forth on its chain.

Coughing, Piper glanced around at the mess of sand that decorated the floor in a strange inverted triangle shape, starting from the bag and spreading outwards, opposite of where she stood.

Apparently she'd been slightly _too_ invested in her thoughts and had sent a pulse of innocence to her limb reflexively—items she came into contact tended to explode in such cases.

She groaned.

Shit.

Shit.

"Shit."

She heard a startled inhale, immediately her head whipped in the direction of the noise. A pair of the lightest blue eyes—almost bordering on silver—stared at her—and the mess behind her—with disbelief. A teenage boy, short for his apparent age—still at least three inches above her—with honest to god snow white hair, like that of an old man. He wore a black and silver coat that proclaimed him to be an Exorcist. Piper hadn't even noticed him until then. The boy kept flicking his gaze back and forth between herself and the burst punching bag.

"What," he stopped, lips parting then closing as if reconsidering his words. "Was that…Innocence?" He asked softly. His silver eyes seemed to scan her form for a sign of the god-crystal—not that he would find anything.

At the mention of the said object of her ire, Piper's features settled into their customary scowl; the damn rock could be such a nuisance. Grunting, she bent down to pick up the pieces of ripped leather, not bothering to look the boy's way as she spoke.

"And what's it to you kid?"

Stormy blue eyes flickered across the mess—noticing actually how many scattered pieces there were—she dropped the broken leather with a huff…she couldn't be damned, let Sanitary deal with it. The strangely meek look the teen gave off seemed to dissipate as his snowy brows furrowed in annoyance.

"I'm not a kid." He muttered.

Piper considered him from the corner of her eye, trying to place him. She'd definitely remember meeting a white haired Exorcist, so he must have been new—in the last two years at least—another lamb for the Order to slaughter it seemed. Apparently child soldiers were becoming a thing these days.

Turning from the mess, she strode past the strangely coloured teen, heading for her discarded socks and shoes. Just as she reached the edge of the sunken floor—half a boot on—the teen spoke again.

"You're Piper Blackburn, aren't you?" There was a strangely curious, yet wary note to his voice.

Tugging the last boot over her calf, Piper glanced at the teen, head cocked slightly to the side.

"Ho? My reputation precedes me I see." She said, derisive amusement clear in her tone. "What's your name kid?"

He bristled.

"My name is Allen Walker, and I'm _fifteen_. And I'm as much of a kid as you are." He retorted.

Somehow she found the entire situation rather ironic.

Standing up, Piper stretched, back and shoulders popping, the red of her raw, inflamed knuckles apparent for all see. She began striding towards the door.

"Twenty-two, Walker." She added.

Walker's features dipped in confusion.

"Huh?"

She made no response to his comment, simply exiting the training rooms without a backwards glance.

* * *

. . .

Johnny Gil, in Piper's honest opinion was rather…finicky. He tended to flit around, almost nervously—perhaps unconsciously—darting from one thing to the next, sometimes stumbling over his words or footing. With thick glasses, frizzy hair and a rather diminutive stature, he was nearly the archetype of what one would think a Science section worker to be—all that was missing was a Komui Lee style maniacal laugh. While a touch awkward, he was genuinely kind-hearted, actually caring, going out of his way to try and befriend Exorcists and non-exorcists alike—even someone like herself. While he certainly had a heart of gold—something Piper found in only a few others—he was rather…naïve. It was rather plain to see that Gil had remained mostly untouched to the effects of the Holy War. He was unblemished and unaware of the true horrors it wrought, unmarked by the cynicism, lacking the cold hard edge in the eyes of those the war had touched. Every Exorcist, without fail—whether they came green around the gills and cheery-eyed—carried the taint of war, the taint of one who had witnessed tragedy and atrocity. Aside from the Exorcists, a few Finders, and Komui Lee himself, little understood its horror. And even then Piper could list on both her fingers those that truly comprehended what the Holy War itself really entailed, who exactly— _what_ exactly they were fighting.

And she after a decade of involvement had only just scratched the surface barely three weeks ago.

"—I managed to modify the weave so that the material should stay intact for longer, hopefully. Other that a few stitching modifications, the design should be unchanged for your particular specifications." Johnny Gil told her, eagerly extending the neatly folded black and silver uniform.

The cloth felt familiar under her hands as she took it.

"I'm sorry it took so long for the uniform to be ready," Gil rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "We tried to salvage what we could of the last, but ultimately we had to scrap it due to extensive damage. And due to your specific uh, 'requirements', procuring the necessary materials took…a lot longer than usual."

Specific requirements indeed, when nearly anything she came into contact over long durations of time ran the risk of…exploding, the clothes and weapons she used needed to be highly durable and somewhat Innocence proof. Of course obtaining such material was…costly. A normal Exorcist uniform alone was incredibly expensive—not accounting for the personal modifications made for each Exorcist's fighting style and attributes—and she tended to go through them like used tissues. Also considering _all_ her clothes—underwear and bindings included—not just the uniform, were made from the enhanced material. Well sufficed to say she cost the Order a small fortune.

Piper nodded, unfolding the coat and slipping it on. The nostalgic weight of the material felt comforting, reassuring, as if she had been naked up until that point. Despite the fact that it singled her out, represented an organization she wished no part in; she had worn the Exorcist uniform for nearly ten years, it was as much apart of her identity as the freckled skin on her cheeks. Deviating from the standard, the coat's sleeves were cropped short—just below the shoulder—and the lower part of the coat below the waist was loose to allow freedom of movement, all tailored to her style of swift maneuvers and strong punches and kicks.

"Also we thought it wise to give you this, after you lost the last one." Gil added almost as if an afterthought, producing four cylindrical metal shafts—just under a foot in length each—and handed them to her.

Piper perked up immediately, almost grinning as she rolled the pieces between her fingers. Eagerly and with movements that boasted years of practice, the four pieces snapped together, creating a larger whole. She spun the staff deftly with her hands, checking its weight and balance; Johnny flinched when it went thud as she rested its end on the floor. Daggers were nice and all, but nothing beat whacking an enemy from a distance.

"It's not as if I go out of my way to drop expensive titanium-alloy quarterstaffs off of ravines." She said dryly.

With a flick of her wrist, the catches holding the pieces together came undone; she attached them to the slotted loops on her belt.

"Aha…I guess not." He tittered nervously, smiling despite the fact that he looked at her as if she would suddenly bite him.

Piper's eyes went cold.

Everyone looked at her like that. Like they needed to walk on eggshells around her.

She was either the poor girl with the terrible past—to be pitied—or the unstable explosive woman that would lash out and anything near her—to be feared.

And while she knew that Johnny Gil meant nothing by it, and that he was at least making an effort . . . it still hurt nonetheless.

Doing up the final silver button on her coat, Piper nodded curtly to Gil, before swiftly retreating.

She really needed to get out of this hellhole.

* * *

. . .

"Absolutely not. It's out of the question."

Piper's stormy-blue eyes narrowed.

"Why not?" She demanded.

Komui Lee didn't even glance in her direction as he began to shuffle through various papers strewn across his large desk. He made a tutting sound as he randomly threw one behind him, just another to add to the hundreds that littered the floor.

Piper's teeth grit as one of the papers under her foot crumpled.

" _Chief_. Why not." She growled.

A sigh.

"Because you were fatally injured less than a month ago, sending you out into the field without your full strength would practically be suicide. That and you lost your entire squad, including Woods. It would be inhumane to send you on a mission without time to properly grieve for those you have lost."

Piper scowled.

Not at full strength her ass. He knew she was perfectly capable of handling herself. Flicking out the charcoal pencil still sitting in her hair, she sent of pulse of innocence to her fingertips and into the pencil, lighting it up with a greenish aura. With a flick, the pencil imbedded itself into the wood of the desk nearly three meters away, almost as if it were a nail fired from an air-gun, not a flimsy wood and charcoal utensil. The green aura disappeared nearly instantly the moment it touched the desk.

"You know very well I can defend myself. I don't want to be cooped up in this… _place,"_ there was venom in the word, "Any longer. Not where everyone either treats me as a freak or looks at me with _pity_." She hissed.

Now she had his attention. Komui glanced to the pencil, before slowly trailing his dark eyes up to meet hers, peering out from under his beret and glasses.

"…why are you so adamant to believe that everyone within the Order is out to get you? Things have changed, the Black Order in not your prison, it's your home, Piper." He said gently.

"It's Blackburn to you." She muttered before adding softly, "This place holds too many bad memories for me for it to ever be considered _home."_

"Taking missions one on top of another won't chase away the pain, _Piper_." Lee said knowingly.

". . . No, it won't. But I can sure as hell try."

Something…sad flickered across Komui's features.

"…Fine. I'll send you on a mission." He sighed.

 _Finally_ —

"But on two conditions."

Piper deflated in annoyance, arms crossing.

"I'm listening."

"You are to take the Finders James Ackerman and Nathan Stiller with you, along with an issued Golem for scheduled reports."

Nathan and Ackerman she was fine with, but the golem would certainly be a nuisance. But she could tolerate it as long as it got her out of this place.

"If that's all—" She was cut off.

"It's not. I have one other condition. Should you encounter anything particularly ' _dangerous'_ you are _not_ to engage and contact the Order immediately." Lee said pointedly.

'Dangerous'. They both knew what he was really implying.

"I'm not a child, I can handle myself." She said indignantly, features setting into their customary scowl.

"You nearly _died_. No matter what you say, you cannot refute that. Unless you agree to these conditions— _all_ of them—then you may not go."

"Fine." Piper growled, turning on her heel and storming from the room. On her way out she passed a startled Lenalee.

The said girl blinked in surprise, dark eyes trailing after the moody Exorcist. They quickly flickered in the direction of her brother.

"Brother?" She called, concern lacing her voice at the expression on his face. As quickly as the expression appeared it faded behind a goofy grin.

"Ah yes, come in my sweet Lenalee~" He sing-songed.

Her eyes flickered to the pencil wedged into the wood of the desk.

"What happened?"

"Oh nothing you should worry about." He said waving her off. "Now what can I do for my favourite darling sister?"

* * *

. . . . .

The air was filled with the thick smell of coal smoke from the steam engine. The cacophony of voices and footsteps flooded the station, the sounds of life, drowning out even her own thoughts. They stood—the three of them—in the center of the platform, two tan-coated males holding a large map and one diminutive female dressed in a black and silver uniform, suited more for a man than a lady of their time. They were a rather strange sight, sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the crowds of people, as such the commuters tended to give them a rather wide berth—along with a multitude of strange looks.

Just one of the perks of being an Exorcist, she supposed. A rather happy alternative to being pressed between the claustrophobic pull of bodies within the crowds. Of course the flashy uniforms weren't designed with discretion in mind, after all their intended purpose _was_ to draw Akuma out, even if that meant essentially painting a giant target on their backs.

"We will need to take _that_ train line in order to get to our nearest destination." Nathan proclaimed, pointing to a particular spot on the map vehemently.

The man beside him—Ackerman sighed.

"Nat, our mission's tah the west, the train line ya pointin' to will lead us _east._ We need tah take _this one."_ He corrected, leaning over the other man's shoulder and pointing to a completely different spot.

"Would you kindly _refrain_ from touching me. And for the last goddamned time, my name is _Nathan_ , not that ridiculous sobriquet you have saddled me with." Nathan hissed, trying—and failing—to push the overly clingy man from his person.

"And you are clearly reading the map wrong, this," he pointed again, "Is _obviously_ where we need to go." He asserted.

Ackerman sighed again in frustration.

"Nat ya not listenin' tah me. An' if I remem'er right _ya_ are the one tha' gets us lost all the time cause of ya map readin' skills—which I migh' add are 'orrible."

"H- _horrible_?!" Nathan looked rather affronted. "My navigational skills are _superb,_ unlikeyourself. In fact I encourage you to conjure up a _single_ instance where I have lead us astray." He challenged indignantly.

"A single time ey? Oh yeah, wha' about the time ya decided tah take the unmarked, unpaved road—which ya insisted was on tha' map—that lead us intah' the middle of a bog?"

"That was no fault of my own. The map was clearly outdated, I was simply doing my best with what we had at our disposal."

A snort.

"Like hell. Well wha' about the other time with the tunnel an' the cliff?"

"An accident."

"Fine. An' how can ya explain the jungle an' the tribe of demon worshipers?"

"Once again no fault of my own, the map was burned in half by an Akuma."

Ackerman drew himself up.

"Alrigh' ya leave me with no choice. There's no bloody way ya can worm ya way outta the _Westminster Incident."_

Nathan went pale.

"T-that was completely uncalled for!" He near cried in outrage.

All intelligible conversation was lost as they descended into bickering.

Piper sighed, rubbing her temple from the headache that was threatening to form. She may have been the youngest of the three present, but sometimes she wondered if her maturity doubled that of theirs on times like this.

"Why don't we just stop and ask for directions." She cut in dryly.

Ackerman pouted.

"Aww but I was just about tah prove Nat 'ere wrong." He whined, playfully pointing to his partner.

Composing himself—but not before shooting the man one last glare—Nathan turned to her.

"I suppose you are correct, but who exactly would we inquire, seeing as I doubt anyone here would help us." He gestured to the people busily scurrying passed.

Piper's stormy blue eyes scanned through the masses, trying to find anyone that wasn't moving or avoiding them completely. Her eyes came to rest on a particular spot the crowd seemed to be avoiding as much—if not more so—than themselves. No, not avoiding so much as _ignoring_ , as if the people were evading a rather unpleasant smell; and in reality that was a particularly apt description as the group at the center were known for their uncleanliness. Drifters, her mind supplied, taking in the various states of deterioration their dress was in, faded cloth, chaffed edges, stained material. Although judging from the quality of said material, which were not rags, and the fact that they didn't have an overall air of desperation, they were less likely to be beggars and more traveling workers—cheap labor usually reserved for the coalmines or factories. The three men were lounging against one of the brick walls of the ticket booth, most likely hoping to slip aboard one of the luggage cars of the itinerating trains, in most cases the conductors tended to turn a blind eye to their kind. She'd found that hobos tended to have excellent senses of direction. Although the presence of a small child wearing a medical mask was certainly a new one for Piper.

"We'll ask them." She said gesturing to the four figures.

Upon glancing where Piper had pointed to, Nathan's expression soured into a look of extreme distaste.

" _Vagrants_? They are more likely to rob us blind than help us." He scoffed.

"If you can survive Akuma, I'm sure a couple of bums should be tolerable." She said pointedly.

"'Sides," Ackerman added, "if ya got this," he flicked up a coin of the local currency "then they'll tell ya whateva' ya wanna know."

"A waste of Black Order funds if you ask me." He muttered.

Ackerman patted him on the back impishly.

"No-one _is_ askin' ya."

Piper began to weave her way through the crowd, due to her short stature, becoming on more than one occasion the unfortunate victim of a shove—not that she didn't give as good as she got. Upon reaching the males, the Finders just a few steps behind—Nathan more so that Ackerman—she curtly cleared her throat so as to gain their attention.

The one with the woolen beanie looked up from his prior activity, surprise seeming to flit across his features as most tended to ignore them, it soon turned into a wary suspicion at the sight of their uniforms.

"Can we help ya, lad—" he trailed off seeming to realize her apparent gender. "Uh, Miss?" He said cautiously, an accent apparent in his voice—but not quite as thick as Ackerman's.

"Yes actually. We're looking a small town called Greenwood, it's supposed to be on one of the train lines from this station." She replied.

"To tha' west." Ackerman piped in.

"So you're looking for directions?" Another of the men, this one with dull brown hair, said.

She nodded in affirmation. This seemed to appease the beanie wearing one somewhat as the tension drained from his posture.

"Greenwood ey? That's the stop just before ours." He pointed to the tracks on the opposite side of the station from them. "The train for that line comes in 'bout five minutes or so." He added.

"Ha! I was right Nat!" Ackerman declared from behind her.

Piper herself wasn't listening, particularly as her attention was drawn to the mask-wearing child who was playing with a shiny rock. Her eye seemed to catch his for a moment, before he turned away to tug on the pant-leg of the forth drifter. This one appeared larger in stature than the others, with tousled dark hair that curled every which way, a slight amount of stubble and large thick glasses that could certainly give Johnny Gil's a run for their money. Of the three men he seemed to have the most unkempt look. The man—who had been uninterested up until that point—acknowledged the boy with a good-natured ruffle of the child's hair.

"What is it Eeze?" He spoke, his voice a strangely pleasant sound despite the slightly husky undertone of an accent.

"That girl, she's wearing funny clothes." Eeze said with an innocent curiosity only a child could achieve.

The man chuckled—a deep throaty noise, that shouldn't have sounded as good as it did—blowing out a puff of tobacco smoke from the cigarette perched between his lips.

"Oh is she?" He replied, clearly humoring the child by turning to glance in her direction.

The man's gaze seemed to slide over her—or at least she thought so as it was hard to tell due to his thick lenses—without really taking more than a cursory glance, he turned back to the boy in obvious dismissal.

Jerk, Piper thought. At least it was better than leering though.

And as quickly as he'd turned away, he lurched, seemingly choking on his own smoke, head snapping back round to face her so quickly something should have broken. His eyebrows were almost at his hairline, mouth agape, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose to reveal shocked brown eyes.

Piper frowned at him in confusion, raising a single eyebrow in response. She'd certainly had all manner of reactions to her presence, but nothing quite like this. Huffing she turned back to the beanie wearing one and Ackerman.

* * *

. . . . .

And to the one known as Tyki Mikk, Noah of Pleasure and currently traveling hobo, he was watching in absolute disbelief as a dead woman walked, one that he was quite certain he had killed over a month ago.

* * *

 **A/N: ...I could come up with many elaborate and creative excuses as to why I haven't updated. But I won't. I could also sit here explaining why I'm updating this over Lost and Found. But I won't. No. You will simply have to bask in the awesomeness that is this update ;)**

 **In all honesty though, Dark Horizons is definitely the most difficult of my stories to write, particularly as I find Piper a hard person to characterise without making her seem overly moody, mopey or** **fiery. It's difficult to find that fine balance between what makes an interesting character and the dreaded Mary-sue. And I'm sure as many OC writers can tell you, is very difficult. Also, Allen in particular is also somewhat difficult for me, seeing a I'm used to writing him as a sassy, rude seven year old raised by the Noahs.**

 **Within the world of D. Gray -man I have a particular interest in what the real world implications and consequences of being an Exorcist would be, particularly the psychological. As most of them are social pariahs in some way or another they all would suffer in some manner, Piper is meant to be a severe example of this. Her past experiences account for much of her seemingly negative behaviour and outlooks. That and she has quite volatile emotions.**

 **Now I will say that while yes she is a parasitic type, it was not done for powers sake, but as an exploration of her character and its implications. And while I tried to find other ways of not making her a parasitic type, I found it wouldn't work for the story as a whole, thus why I added the complications with her Innocence and the problems it causes.**

 **And finally, romance. Which you can probably tell is still a long time coming. Seeing as Tyki and Piper still want to kill each other. :)**

 **Good times. Good times.**

 **Rainbowrunner01 ridin' her rainbow out of here~**


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